At Last!

So far this is my day:

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The first part of the day was decorating the venue for my daughter’s school’s PTSA auction with Pacman, Miss Pacman and a few of the ghosts and treats. After that it was retail therapy and nail painting. I’m not saying I’m the best at painting my stubby, little nails, but I do have great taste in color!

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This morning I hopped on the scale to see those two pesky pounds that jumped on as soon as I stopped exercising on Tuesday, disappear. Along with them they took a half pound, so I am down 2.5 this week after being up two earlier this week. A net of a half pound lost! I know, it doesn’t seem like THE numbers I’m looking for, but after sitting for a month without any significant movement on the scale, it feels like progress! Something! At last!

Bradley emailed me an article yesterday that was about fat. The article not only had a lot of interesting fat factoids (and a stomach turning Dr. Oz video), it also confirmed my suspicions about my body going into stress and holding onto the fat instead of letting it go.
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I did lie a little bit. I gave up 70% of my exercise. I figured my hip was really what needed rest so I took two complete days off of everything and since then I’ve played around with Wii Fit and I’ve done a few rounds of abs and arms workouts. If I stopped altogether I was afraid of losing my momentum. Today my plan is to do Wii, abs, arms and end with some of the hip exercises. I figure it’s ok. I’ve kept everything focused on strength training and it’s all been low impact. And really, I lost weight for the first time in a while. I must be doing something right!
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EmbarASSing confession- my butt is getting cuter. I was reading on Pinterest all these amazing workouts one can do on Memes, and of course they have, like, a 21 year old chick standing there in a midriff shirt, close up on the compression shorts ensconced booty – wait, lemme correct that- a high, tight, round booty that you could bounce quarters on in compression shorts. I looked at those and thought, “Man, that will never be me.”* And that may be true. It does say not for people with weak knees. I may never wear a midriff shirt (let’s give that a 3% chance of happening intentionally), but it would seem that when I work my rear, it hops to and pays a little attention! I’m liking the change and my husband is not complaining either. Lets just leave it at that. 🙂
*I realized after I wrote this that in the past having that thought would have been enough to stop me from even trying to move forward. As if because I might not ever look like the girl in that picture it just wasn’t worth it. Isn’t that strange? That some improvement wasn’t good enough? It makes me wonder how often I tell myself things aren’t possible because I allow the fear of failure to hold me back.
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And lastly…
Pet peeve of mine- why do people care so much about ‘dressing their age’?! This morning I overheard one mom say to the other, “We’ll, she’s like FIFTY and she’s trying to dress like her daughter who is 18!” A gasp and a giggle later and the room was all a flutter. I encountered this last year too at Disneyland too. There was a group of ‘adults’ in front of me commenting on a group of early twenty-something girls wearing total nerd girl shirts with quotes about reading, physics and Schrödinger’s cat. This did not escape these women who agreed that, “There just comes a time in your life when you have to buy a grown up’s t-shirt.” There I was, wearing a bright pink t-shirt with Wonder Woman on it while waiting to ride Toy Story Mania. The height of sophistication. I turned around and obviously studied their plain brown khakis and age safe pastel tops with indistinguishable designs safely centered above their bosoms. Their husbands were the male counterpart. Who cares? So then, I wonder, do people say that kind of stuff about me? Because I like color and wear a lot of it. I like to play with clothes. I like kid stuff. Fortunately I work in a profession that encourages And perhaps that’s why this is a pet peeve of mine- I’m waiting for the day I get accused of dressing like a (oh please, NO) 18 year old!

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